


pendulum

by vxxv



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Characters, Dirty Talk, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rimming, Sub Jean Kirstein, Threesome - F/M/M, Unsafe Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, canonverse, set during timeskip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:28:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vxxv/pseuds/vxxv
Summary: Jean is lying in bed, still drunk, and he can’t sleep.Eren and Mikasa having sex next door is not helping his situation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for god knows how long, and talking about erejeankasa with a tumblr friend prompted me to finish it off. so here it is, some self indulgent ot3 porn, it’ll probably be 2/3 chapters at most. also i’m writing this as a coping mechanism for current manga happenings lmao :^(

Jean can’t sleep. 

He’s in a post-drinking haze and everything around him is still swirling lucidly as he tries to recall what happened during the evening, and if he said anything stupid to anyone. He doesn’t think he said anything _too stupid_ , he thinks he may have had an emotional drunken moment with Connie where he told him how much he loves him, even if he did have a shitty haircut.

He smiles to himself at the thought and sits up, the sudden jarring movement making him see stars in the dim light of his room, he can feel his pulse in his ears and a dull rumbling in his temples. 

_I am never going to drink again_ , is the thought that immediately enters his head.

He strips off his shirt and feels his bones ache. The room had become obnoxiously hot in the sweltering heat of the warm season and he can feel sweat accumulating on the small of his back, wet clinging to his skin and making it stick. He moves to stand then, stretches, bends over and touches his toes — letting his aching bones crack with relief before taking a peep out of his room door: he sees Connie and Sasha, draped over each other and passed out on the sofa in the darkness of the living room, a bottle of wine on the coffee table, on the other side of the room he can see Armin and Eren’s door left open, and Armin tucked away in his bed.

Eren though, is missing.

Jean can feel a headache coming on and a twitch in his eye manifesting, and he suspects that it has nothing to do with the fact that he had just drank copious amounts of alcohol. 

That damned bastard must be sharing with Mikasa.

He shuts the door carefully, as to not wake anyone, and stumbles over to the bed; his jealous feelings only amplified by the fact that he is still rather drunk. He flops, facedown, and feels the springs beneath him almost give way to his body mass as he continues to dwell on his two friends.

Eren had taken his fucking time realising Mikasa’s feelings for him, and it was when he was 17 that it all clicked into place for him, that dumb bastard.

Jean was almost relieved when he walked in on them making out in their communal living room, before storming back to his room and sulking over how Yeager had gotten a girl that he hadn’t appreciated ever. Now, it felt like they were always all over each other: Eren cooking her breakfast and bringing her on dates, Mikasa knitting a matching scarf and making picnics to share on the weekend, all the damned shared glances and blushing faces, the less than discreet lip biting and footsy at the dinner table.

It was all too smushy and fluffy for Jean… Maybe he was just a jealous son of a bitch. Maybe he just wanted Mikasa to make eyes at him.

_‘Fucking Yeager.’_

He huffs an irritated sigh into the pillow and closes his eyes, waiting to drift off to sleep, thinking about how he was at least glad that Mikasa’s feelings were being reciprocated by Eren, and if she was happy, well, that was enough for him.

He closes his eyes and feels himself drifting.

Then, he hears a voice, low and garbled.

_‘Eren.’_

It’s a woman’s voice, he quickly realises, breathy and strained.

Jean turns over and his eyes snap open, suddenly feeling very extremely wide awake and _extremely_ sober. He swears that he hears something from Mikasa’s room.

Panic sets in and he is praying to whoever will listen that what he thinks is happening is _not_ happening because he does not think that he can sit in silence and let it happen.

He then hears a loud thump, which is then followed by more loud rhythmic thumping, which is now undoubtedly the sound of a bed frame repeatedly smacking against a wall.

But Jean just lies there, sweating even more than he was initially because this, _this_ was actually happening.

Eren and Mikasa were in her room... _fucking._

He closes his eyes and tries to focus on other things, like training drills and 3DGM, Levi kicking his ass, titans, but the noise persists and he feels as if the noises have gotten louder—

—But he can hear Mikasa, and he feels like he’s intruding despite not being there, but _fuck_ , when she moans it starts low and rises in pitch, and he can hear the staccato in her voice as the thumping speeds up — and Jean can feel himself getting hard.

He can hear her trying to muffle her voice but he hears Eren say _‘I want to hear you’_ in a commanding tone, a very un-Eren like tone. It makes his cock twitch in his sleep pants - and by Sina, he has to stop himself from reaching below the waistband.

Mikasa is babbling now, gasping for breath and he can envision her hands gripping the bedsheets, and Eren is talking dirty to her in a low, low, voice, dark and gravelly, almost sounding like a man possessed, saying the filthiest things. 

_‘You’re taking me so well, princess.’_

Jean holds in a whine. Thinks about the pleasure Mikasa must be feeling in the moment, what it would be like to be spoken to like that, and he can feel his face flush and the spread of heat across his chest and up his neck.

He gasps then, imagines her face, flushed pink with hot ecstacy, her midnight hair sticking to the sweat on her cheeks and forehead. Are her arms raised above her head? Is Eren holding her thighs and fucking into her? Is she lying on her stomach with Eren pulling her hair back, splitting her open from the back?

Jean mewls, lewd imagery filling his mind’s eye. He starts tightening his hand around his length, giving into temptation and hoping that he won’t be smited for it. He squeezes his cock, long and thick, and exhales harshly as he listens to the sounds of his friends fucking. He can hear the dim slapping of skin and Mikasa’s low whining and begging and _please, please, please._

 _‘Good girl’,_ Eren purrs, the smile evident in his voice and Jean has to stop himself from groaning out loud, thinking of Eren sinking into Mikasa with his cock time and time again. He thinks of Eren looming over Mikasa, and then looming over him, Eren’s long hair hanging around his face, eyes luminescent in the darkness of the room, his stubble brushing against his face as the man sinks into him.

Jean is panting now, jerking his cock manically, closing his eyes so that he can commit the image to memory, searing it into the back of his eyelids, thinking of Eren, thinking of Mikasa. If Jean and her were dating, would she ride him? Would she be above him, maybe like she is above Eren now, is she fucking him with her hands planted on his chest? The image of Mikasa rolling her hips luxuriously, breasts heaving and cunt wet, is just too much for him.

Jean cums then with a grunt, forcing himself to bite down on his tongue. The result of his fantasy wet and sticky in his hand, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he inhales mouthfuls of air.

He lays there, lungs heaving as Mikasa and Eren continue; Eren isn’t done yet and Mikasa has cum twice. He does eventually though, it’s with a shout and repeated assurances to Mikasa that he loves her _’I love you, you’re perfect, I love you’_ is what he hears. Jean tells himself that he isn’t jealous.

(He is, of who though, he isn’t sure).

The noise next door eventually winds down and he can hear the noises of two partners panting, his friend’s whispering lovingly to each other in post-coital bliss, the headiness of their breathing. It takes moments for the noises to conclude and then another few beats before the quiet sets in and then, there is nothing. Just Jean and his slowing breaths and distilling jealousy.

Jean lies there wide awake, cum drying on his pants and hand, feeling ashamed, embarrassed, slightly traumatised perhaps. Did he really just jack off listening to his friends having sex? _Yes,_ he thinks, shame settling over him. And Eren, _fuck_ , Eren was a there too. Eren was there with Mikasa, Eren was fucking her. Eren was fucking him. 

He feels his face flush red and tries to dismiss the thoughts as quickly as possible, pulling his pants up over his hips and wiping his hand in the sheets. 

_But he can’t._

Jean thinks about Eren filling him, Mikasa riding him, the pair of them kissing, Eren’s hand splayed on her stomach as they both fuck him. Mikasa’s mouth is wide open, emitting loud erotic cries and Eren is staring right at him with piercing gold orbs as he bites on her earlobe, pulling it between his teeth. He feels the clench of her cunt — his hand, and he feels himself cumming again, hips rutting into the sheets, his cock beginning to pulse. He groans like an animal in heat, turning his face into the pillow and trying to hide his voice in the softness as he spills over his fist and inside his sleep clothes.

He pulls his hand out of his pants again, stickier than before. He hadn’t even realised what he was doing, wrapped up in the thoughts of his friends. Eren hot in him, Mikasa hot around him.

Jean closes his eyes and swears quietly to himself, annoyed and disgusted at what just occurred, but also at Eren and Mikasa for being so fucking loud when they’re sharing a house with other people. He sighs, irritated, and pulls the quilt up over his back. He tries to sleep then, and a good chunk of time is spent trying to ignore the fact that tomorrow morning Eren and Mikasa will be sat at the same table as him, and that he would have to speak with them, them not knowing that he had gotten off on thinking about them during the night.

He has a fitful sleep that evening.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean is a bisexual disaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I just wanted to say thanks for all the comments and kudos; turns out getting praise on the internet makes you feel good!
> 
> This chapter is quite long. I got carried away and my ability to edit is sub-par so here it is lmao

Jean wakes up with a start. 

His head is pulsing, instantly swimming with thoughts that are nothing but hazy blurs, and the glare of the morning sunlight is harsh on his eyes. He swipes his tongue over his teeth and feels the texture of plaque. 

_Gross._

He rolls over on his side and squints at his bedside clock. It’s morning, 8am, earlier than expected and he doesn’t think that anyone else in the apartment will be up for at least another two hours, especially this early on the weekend. He resides himself to getting up, seeing as there is no point lying there, plus, he desperately needs a glass of water and a shower, not to mention his sheets and pants are a mess, and the mere thought of what he did last night makes his face burn.

Jacking off to Eren and Mikasa, putting himself in Eren’s place, putting himself in Mikasa’s place. Two people who he loves dearly and he derived sexual pleasure from the thoughts of the pair of them, without either of them knowing. He feels guilt wash over him, and he hopes he won’t have to experience it again, no matter how much he thinks that he would like to be between them.

He strips the sheets, cum stains clearly visible on them. He grimaces and bunches them up as quickly as possible before throwing them in a washing hamper on top of his sleep pants that he already disposed of. Out of sight, out of mind.

Grabbing a towel from the closet, he wraps it around his waist, leaving his torso bare. He peeks out the door; Sasha has migrated elsewhere, maybe to Eren’s room since he was with Mikasa, but Connie is still knocked out, lying face down in a pool of saliva (now with a blanket tossed over him). The smell of alcohol has permeated the room as well, and he somehow feels even more gross than he had initially, a litany of other forgotten drunken memories worming their way into his brain. 

He steps out, holding his breath as to avoid any other potential smells that he doesn’t want to inhale -- last time there was a get together at their residence Floch vomited over the sofa and the stench had remained in the apartment for three days. Jean banned visitors for three months.

After passing through the vacant hallway and into the kitchen, he finds that he’s not the only one awake. 

Mikasa is sat there, dressed in the new uniform drinking coffee and writing on what he sees are recruit evaluation forms, two cups on the table, one half empty...

_‘Someone else must be up.’_

He knew that Mikasa was an early riser during the week but he hadn’t expected to see her this early on a Saturday.

“Good morning,” she greets, glancing up at him and then back to her papers. “Not like you to be up so early on a weekend.”

“Could say the same for you,” he quips. She raises eyes to him and he sees a sweet smile on her lips.

Jean takes her in for a moment, quietly observing as she delicately turns pages with hands that he knows harbour a deadly energy, but yet, her touch seems so maddeningly gentle. There was tamed power seated in her bones.

He wasn’t aware that had become so engrossed in her until he noticed all the small things about her. He was enamoured with her and all that she did. He knew that she liked to sing, and the way she sang would always result in the sweetest song, that she would lick her fingers after meals when she thought no one was looking, that she had ridiculous amounts of knowledge about farming and she grew tomatoes for Sasha. Jean knew as well that she kept a sketchbook of birds she liked. He thought she could do anything. 

(Of course, he realises that paying too much attention to a woman he wasn’t dating just made him look like a desperate weirdo. Nice one, Jean).

It was strange. Mikasa seemed like an anomaly on the surface. A mix of contradictions and oddities. How was it that someone with such power could be so beautiful and kind, that someone who handled things so delicately could be made of tough flesh and hard lines. That someone so compassionate would be the first to carve flesh. 

She’s looking at him now, god rays peering through the window onto her face, and he can see the glint in her near black eyes. She looks immaculate, refreshed and relaxed.

“Are you alright?” She asks, brows furrowed in concern.

He blinks twice, dazed by his hangover and Mikasa’s lovely face.

“I--... I’m fine,” he stutters in reply, thoroughly flustered, feeling caught off guard and trying to force down a blush that’s spread over his cheeks. “Just didn’t get a whole lot of sleep, that’s all.”

He winces, because it takes a beat for him to realise what he just said, and that he had said it without using any of his remaining brain cells.

She meets his gaze, and Jean swears he sees something click behind her eyes. Realisation, perhaps. 

Because even with the accidental implication, Mikasa is sharp enough to attach what he said to what she and Eren were doing — they _were_ being noisey, they definitely _could_ interfere with his sleep… And she knows that. 

“Oh.”

Mikasa’s throat lurches as she swallows some coffee, lowering her eyes, seemingly not sure where to look

(He swears he sees her cheeks redden).

Jean can instantly tell though that she doesn’t want to have this conversation. Even the slightest insinuation that he heard something had thrown her off balance. He almost feels guilty for it.

Looking away he clears his throat and crosses the kitchen in a few steps, fetching a glass of water and downing it in a few mouthfuls as he rests against the kitchen counter. The whole interaction, as brief as it was, had left him feeling tense and slightly buzzed.

He fills the glass again.

Biting his lip, he takes in Mikasa from behind. He can see the lines of her shoulder blades and the sculpted musculature of her back and arms as she moves about. Then, she halts her movements, surely aware that Jean’s eyes are on her.

“Um… Are you working today?” he queries, attempting to divert conversation and defuse the weird mood that had settled over the kitchen. Although, he thinks that it’s a stupid question because Mikasa is _clearly_ dressed for work.

There’s a swivel in her movement and she looks over her shoulder, eyes briefly, but nonchalantly, roaming his bare torso, and the fact that she had done so makes him shiver.

“I am,” comes the deadpan reply as she turns back around, fingers now in her hair, tying the grown out locks into a low ponytail. “Levi wants me to train up some new recruits until lunch. Hange is thinking of re-organising squads.”

She’s on her feet then, shuffling the mass of papers until they’re neatly stacked, slipping her arms into the Survey Corps jacket and pulling it over her shoulders. As she begins placing the papers in a satchel, his eyes rake over her form; tall and lean, the 3DGM straps tight around the meat of her thighs, the black jeans clinging to her ass.

Fuck Eren. He was such a lucky bastard.

Speaking of...

“Is Eren up?”, he asks, eyeing the other coffee cup on the table.

She hums at the question and nods shortly, readjusting her satchel as the corners of her lips quirk up instantaneously, face pink, a pleasant memory obviously coming to mind.

“He’s in the shower.”

Jean nods. Right. Of course.

“I better go,” she breathes, and gives Jean a wry smile as she tightens the straps on the bag. “Levi is expecting me.”

“Right. Yeah. See you, Mikasa.”

She steps out, bag tight over her torso, giving him a small wave as she goes. He hears the door slam as she leaves and he heaves a breath that he hadn’t even realised that he was holding.

Why was it that everytime he spoke to Mikasa that he devolve into some bumbling clown, unable to carry a conversation without freezing up and making things awkward for himself, nevermind her. He turns and props his arms against the countertop, pressing his head against the cupboard.

He had also _accidentally_ implied that he heard Eren and her fucking.

“Jean, you fucking idiot,” he hissed, banging his head twice off the cupboard for good measure. Maybe that was a good way to knock some sense into himself, maybe he would learn to keep his mouth shut.

“Jean!”

The voice makes him jump out of his skin and there’s a warm bronzed hand on his spine, pressing firmly into his flesh, and the sensation almost makes him gasp.

“Eren! You fucking asshole! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

The brunette man grins at him, waving his hands apologetically.

“Sorry, but you know, seeing anyone banging their head off a cupboard would be a cause for concern,” he says, picking up Mikasa’s half empty cup of coffee and downing it, then doing the same with the other. “Besides, we need that brain of yours.”

Jean rolls his eyes. There were murmurs and rumours that he would eventually be replacing Hange someday. And someday could be soon -- he had been promoted to commanding officer recently and everyone was so sure that his star would continue to rise.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Eren quirks a smile at that, big bold and bright, there’s stubble lining his mouth and chin and Jean hates that he’s such a handsome bastard. “Good. I’m glad you think that way too.”

The shifter moves around the table then, wearing nothing but a pair of slacks, his long wet hair sopping against his shoulder. Jean sees that there are marks tainting the flesh, long scratches like someone has been holding on for dear life, crescent shaped marks on his biceps… He swears he sees a hickey sucked onto his neck.

“Shit,” he whispers to himself. Mikasa had done a number on him.

Or, more like he had done a number on _her_ and managed to get that sort of reaction out of her. Was Eren so good in bed that the unbreakable Mikasa Ackerman, was, in fact, completely breakable? Because it seemed that way.

Could he ever make Mikasa feel like that? Would he ever be able to get that reaction from her? He’d never know either way; Eren and Mikasa would have to break up, and then he would have to charm her in some way. But he doesn’t see that happening ever.

Eren is leaning over the countertop now, reading. The lines on his back look so angry and red, he swear he sees bruising as well, fingerprints, without a doubt hers. He finds that his mind is tossing him back to into his fantasies, and that he is reluctant to resist the swathe of desire that overcomes all of his senses.

He is cast back in time. Wandering the scape of his own imagination. The memories of last night swash over him suddenly, pulling him down, as if he was being drowned, unable to stop it and wishing for water to rush his lungs.

He can hear the bed frame, crashing against the wall. It’s dull but getting louder, and Eren is still reading, totally unaware that Jean has fallen into a dreamy haze of erotic imaginings. 

_Thump_

The noises seem so loud in his mind now, everything becoming so clear as he watches Eren’s torso flex and move as he stands up straight, sees it marred with evidence of intense love making. 

His temples of rumbling, his eyes are closed, he’s thinking now, imagining...

_Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump._

There’s a gasp — and he almost doesn’t realise that it was him that gasped. Jean recalls his fist fastened around his cock, stroking, desperate, wanton.

_‘Eren! Ah-- Please, please, please! Keep fucking me!’_

Shivers wrack his spine. He feels the heat in his belly and he can feel his cock beginning to swell. 

Mikasa. There’s a silent admission then, that he wants her.

He wants her. Fuck, he really wants her. Wants her to come around him, wants to fill her up, wants her to slide her tongue along his cock, wants to feel her tongue in his mouth.

He imagines that the slick warmth of her cunt must be gorgeous, that he might not ever want to leave the heat of her. 

He thinks of her abs then, rising and falling with heavy, desperate breaths, sticky and wet with his cum.

“You ok?”

It’s Eren again, attempting to knock him out of his reverie, watching him through cool eyes, his face twisted in confusion. Rivulets on water dripping down his chest, slipping into the toned crevices of his abs and into the seams of his waistband.

_Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump._

Eren’s gaze pierces through him. He thinks about those eyes in the darkness, and the stubble against his lips. 

_‘That’s a good girl. Made to take my cock’._

In his wandering mind, he is lost, but he doesn’t care; he’s happily being whisked away on this daydream like no other.

Jean is on his knees, panting, nosing and mouthing at Eren’s cock through the fabric of his trousers as if he was a starved animal. The tanned man is threading his fingers through his hair, pulling him against the strained fabric. This Eren grins down at him, zips open his fly and takes the cock in his hand, stroking it in front of Jean’s face. “Open up, like a good slut.”

Jean whines pathetically and opens wide, his tongue out, desperate for Eren to shove his cock down his throat and make him choke.

He sees Mikasa there too out of the corner of his eye, watching them. One hand in her panties, playing with her clit, one hand teasing her nipples, and seeing her do so makes him harder than he already was.

It brings him to the realisation that he wants them both. 

_Fucking shit._

“JEAN!”

There’s a splash of water in his face and suddenly he’s back in the room. His face is burning, yet dripping wet with cold liquid and his cock is throbbing. And Eren is there.

This is so fucking humiliating.

“What the hell happened there?!” asks Eren, gripping his shoulders, his big gold eyes wide and empathetic, not caring whether or not Jean had a boner.

(He does).

The feel of his heart racing in his chest is enough to make him think that he’s sick, his sternum prickling with fear.  
Eren is so close to him now too, and that he thinks that he might want to kiss him. But he can’t, and he won’t, because he loves Mikasa, and Eren loves Mikasa, and this is all suddenly very confusing for him.

“S… Sorry,” he stutters, voice ever so small. “I was lost in thought.”

Swallowing becomes difficult then, and Eren sees his throat bob. He looks him in the eyes again.

“What were you thinking about?” he tries quietly, glancing down at Jean’s obviously hard cock, curious about what got his friend so carried away. Jean groans, because no, _nope_ , this was not meant to happen, but his horny brain got him carried away. He digs the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and wishes that the floor would swallow him whole, or that a meteor would crash into their home, ending him right there. But no, that was obviously not going to happen today.

There’s a beat of silence then, but it feels like a lifetime, and then Eren decides to ask him the one thing that he hoped that he wouldn’t:

“Were you thinking about me?”

_Oh what the fuck._

He wants to scream. He needs to get the admission out that he was, because he is boiling where he stands, and his body is scalding hot, and eventually, it all comes to a head.

“Yes! Fuck! Yes. I was.”

His face must me melting he thinks, plus every ounce of water must have evaporated from his body due to the unsightly amount of sweat that he’s producing. He peeks through his fingers at Eren’s face and to his surprise he’s smirking at him. Not looking mad or anything, perhaps slightly amused.

Eren chuckles then to himself, runs his hand through his wet hair, and Jean can see the blossoming of pink on his cheeks. He takes a few steps back, as if to take a better look at Jean.

“Wow. I thought that you liked Mikasa,” he laughs, scratching the back of his skull. “I didn’t know that you liked g-”

“- I do,” Jean interrupts. He has known a while that he does. He licks his lips and plants his feet firmly on the floor. “I mean, I _do_ like Mikasa, I like girls in general, but I guess that I like guys too.” He shrugs then, feeling ever so slightly relaxed now that Eren had taken the confession well. In fact the other man smiles at him… And the strangest thing seems to happen. 

It’s like a switch flips or something. The brunette is moving towards him, and it feels like all the air in the room has been sucked out.

“You do? Hmm.”

There’s an obvious shift in the mood when Eren begins to give him a once over, and Jean almost thinks that he’s observing him like prey. In his fantasy last night, he had thought about Eren like this — intimidating, domineering, wanting to pull him and Mikasa asunder.

“Was Mikasa..?” He arches his eyebrows, trying to spur on Jean to tell him the truth.

Jean nods, his tongue heavy, barely capable of speaking but trying to prepare an answer. “Yeah,” he swallows again, feeling his mouth dry. “You both were.”

He sees something flash in Eren’s eyes and Jean feels that he should be on his knees right now. The cogs in Eren’s head are definitely turning, and he doesn’t look displeased at all by this information. He moves another step closer to Jean and his body heat makes him vibrate.

“You want us both?”

Jean nods enthusiastically, because there’s no use in denying it anymore. He’s rock hard now.

_“Yes.”_

Eren surges forward and Jean finds himself pressed against the counter, his cock, only covered by a towel, flush against the seam of Eren’s slacks, and to his surprise, Eren is hard too.

The brunette rocks his hips forward then and presses his lips against Jean’s. The taller man gasps, surprised, and Eren takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth, prompting him to moan and press his own tongue against Eren’s. 

They keep rocking their hips together, swapping saliva and clanging their teeth. The feel of Eren against his cock makes his head feel light and the pressure is so lovely, he can barely stop himself panting against Eren’s open mouth with need. 

It all feels so right.

But Eren pulls away suddenly — chest filling and emptying with air as he steadies himself. Inhaling and exhaling as he doubles over.

“Fuck,” he breathes, licking his lips. “Ah, shit, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jean blanches then and grabs his shoulder, vehemently shaking his head. “No, it’s fine, I wanted you to.”

Eren’s lovely eyes, dilated with pleasure, begin to search his face, probably to see if he’s telling lies. But he isn’t; the truth is that he did want Eren to kiss him, he wanted to feel his stubble against his face.

Eren laughs then, breathy with relief and disbelief. 

“Never thought I’d want to kiss you, horseface.”

Jean laughs at that. “You fucking asshole.”

Eren face brightens and Jean spends a moment just taking in his features, watching as the tanned man reaches around him to fill a glass of water. Resting against the countertop with Jean as he drinks it.

“She asked me this morning if we thought that you heard us. And I told her not to think about it,” Eren sighs, scratching his stubble. “You did, didn’t you?”

Gold eyes are on him again, and Jean won’t lie to them. “Yeah. I was listening.”

“That’s hot.”

He nods shortly and swallows nothing. His mouth is bone dry.

“I love Mikasa, I mean, fuck, I’m _in_ love with her,” Eren explains, sounding slightly exasperated. He heaves a sigh. “But, I guess I like you as well.”

_What._

“Are you serious?”

That earns him a glare. Eren stares at him like he has three heads or something.

“Yes! You fucking dumbass!”

Jean’s head is fucking spinning, because now, he’s coming to terms with the fact that Eren _likes_ him, and that he likes Eren, and that Eren loves Mikasa, and _he_ loves Mikasa too, and Mikasa loves Eren, and this is all a bit _too_ much.

“I’m going to talk to Mikasa when she gets home,” Eren starts, hesitating. “...Maybe we can try something.”

Jean does a double take right then and there, because Eren, is quite clearly proposing a threesome. If there are higher beings, Jean thinks, then yes, he would absolutely be praying to them and thanking them right now.

A smile makes its way across his lips and he laughs, asking himself how this ever worked out. He shakes his head disbelievingly as the corners of Eren’s lips turn up at him.

“Yeah, yeah ok, please ask her.”

Eren grins and looks absolutely devious, moving to stand and leave the kitchen with his glass in hand.

“Great. I’ll talk to you later.”

The hot air in the kitchen dissipates as Eren leaves, and Jean realises for the first time that his heart is still rattling against his ribcage and that he can hear the rush of blood through his ears. His face is soaking with perspiration, and he’s positively shaking with adrenaline. Scarcely able to believe that everything that just happened, _happened_

The glass is being filled again, and then again. His mouth is so fucking dry, and now he needs a shower, even more so than before.

He runs his tongue over his teeth again, feeling the texture of plaque. He really needed to brush them. Especially if he was going to be kissing multiple people.

Upon entering the bathroom, he finds that the floor is still wet from use. He reaches around the shower curtain and twists the nozzle, steam quickly filling up the small space. 

Under the spray his mind wanders again. Both of them, Eren and Mikasa, kissing lovingly, kneeling in front of him, watching as he strokes his cock, watching as they both lavish his thick length —swapping spit and pre-cum, each of them taking him down their throats and the other one soothes them. 

Grunting through his teeth, he succumbs to his pleasure, hand slick with cum, his cock softening and sensitive, a warm feeling radiating through him. He hopes that Mikasa agrees, because he really wants this, really needs it.

The bathroom wall is cool against his forehead, and the feeling of heat on his back is comforting. 

But soon, the water runs cold then and he turns it off, drying his hair and stepping out into the day. Feeling hopeful and finding that he has a spring in his step.

He’s halfway to town then when he realises that he forgot to brush his teeth.

_Gross._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, a few things:  
> a lot of this is practice, it’s not perfect and i usually stay away from lots of dialogue, but it’s good to have a go.
> 
> I think this ended up quite long because it became a ‘how-do-i-negotiate-this-threesome-organically-ish’ chapter and jean had to figure out what he feels for eren. plus i just wanted him to be a horny mess.
> 
> eren kissing jean... hm, i’m not proud that he did it behind mikasa’s back but look we’ll fix that.
> 
> next chapter is the last, it’s probably going to be filthy and longish because porn is fun to write lol
> 
> comments and kudos are always nice! you can reach me at bimikasa.tumblr.com as well!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan comes together. Jean and Mikasa have a good time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all *slaps knee*
> 
> Firstly, just wanna say happy (belated) holidays and a happy new year! I would've worked on this a bit faster but writer's block and Christmas happened. Secondly, this fic has been extended by a chapter; I was just gonna jump in with the porn but I felt that it needed setup, saying that, there is porn in this chapter.
> 
> Anyways, that's it for now. Enjoy!

It’s late in the afternoon when there is a barrage of knocks at the door to Jean’s room.

His face had been buried in his pillow and he had spent most of the day napping; turns out staying awake and jerking off to your friends and then going on to have a terrible night sleep would manifest by means of exhaustion. 

_Huh._

“Jean! Open up!”

Ah. It’s Eren.

Jean hopes that he is bearing good news, because he has spent an stupid amount of time dwelling on the idea of having sex with Eren and Mikasa, and he thinks that he would like it out of his system sooner, rather than later.

Jean gets to his feet and stretches, checks himself and his teeth in the mirror, before combing back his hair neatly. He checks himself one more time, wiggles his eyebrows, undoes the top button of his shirt, makes sure that he do--

“JEAN! Open up!”

-esn’t smell.

The door is wrenched open and Yeager is on the other side with a face like a smacked arse, pouting at him with his eyes squinted in annoyance. Jean thinks that he almost looks cute.

“Took you long enough,” he whines, attempting to look past Jean into the room. He frowns up at him, “Were you jerkin’ it in there or..?”

Jean’s face goes beet red in an instant, scandalised by the comment and the insinuation that he would ever do such a thing!

“No, I was not, Eren,” he snaps, face aflame as he starts pulling the door over to stop the smaller man from peeping in. “What do you want?”

“Well, I was hoping we could talk about, y’know,” Eren looks around conspiratorially, as if to make sure no one is watching them “The Plan.”

Ah, yeah. The Plan.

Jean steps aside and lets Eren in, closing the door behind them, eliminating outside sounds until it’s just the two of them. 

Eren sits himself down on Jean’s bed, bouncing his weight as if he was testing for durability before he’s chided by Jean. He spreads himself out, lying flat with his face in a pillow and Jean now he reckons that it wise that he changed the bed sheets because Eren is making himself very comfortable on the fresh set.

“Mikasa wants to do it,” Eren says after a moment, propping himself up on his elbow to get a better look at Jean’s surprised face; he was not expecting to say yes. “She says that you were acting strange this morning and she had an inkling it was because you heard us,” he explains.

“She knows that you like her, and I told her that I like you, so…”

Jean leaps at Eren then, and tackles him in a hug; arms awkwardly wrapped around his midsection, pressing a kiss to his cheek as Eren slaps him away, an indigent look on his face.

“Eren, you beautiful bastard,” another kiss on the cheek muffling his words, another slap from Eren vibrating off his shoulders, the tanned man now squirming out of his grasp.

“Alright, ok! Get off me!”

Jean moves back, hands up as if to surrender and Eren playfully scowls at him, getting to his feet and fixing his drawstring shirt. “It’s a good thing that you’re good at taking commands, Mikasa likes that,” is what he says, the hint of a smile playing on his lips and the subtle implication sends a thrill up his spine. He imagines what that must be like; Mikasa’s wet slick heat over his face, he can practically hear himself asking for a taste, her giving him permission from above and riding his face as she grabs his hair at the root. The pain is delectable, and her taste is exquisite.

“Hello?”

Oh, yeah, Eren is here.

“When and where are we meeting?” Jean asks, voice quivering with anticipation. He must sound so completely pathetic, so eager to be fucked and taken apart.

It’s apparent that Eren senses his desperation; the shifter has a wolfish grin as he peers down at him and takes a step closer, looking at him as if he were edible.

“The Wolf and Stag, tonight,” he murmurs, something wicked in his tone. His hand is on his face then, letting it slide along the curve of Jean’s jaw. “Mikasa has gone to get a room. Be there after 7pm.”

The hand pulled from his face and Eren steps towards the door, looking at Jean expectantly. “How’s that sound?”

Jean can feel his pulse in his jugular now, taken aback at how Eren shifted the mood so casually. He smacks his lips, aware of them drying out as the room temperature rockets.

Jean’s reply is immediate. “Great,” he begins to nod his head vigorously, suddenly dying of thirst. He’s feeling a knot beginning to form in his belly, and his hands have fisted the bed sheets. “Great.”

Eren leaves then, the door clicking, and Jean is on his feet to lock it immediately. He leans against the door, feeling the cool oak on his back through the fabric of his shirt.

He palms his cock then; his pants are tight for what feels like the nth time since he got up. The print of his thick length so clearly obvious in his slacks - he’s disappointed Eren didn’t say anything, maybe he would’ve given him a handjob, or had him rut on his fresh bed sheets for amusement as he watches.

But there had been enough jerking off today, he had figured, it would be better to wait until later; besides, the real thing would be much better than just him, his hand, and his imagination -- and he is itching with anticipation.

The ticking of his clock in the background snaps him back to reality. It’s 4pm, and the Wolf and Stag is on the other side of Karanes. Which means that there is plenty of time to wash up and get himself ready, maybe go buy some flowers for Mikasa and get a fresh bottle of Marley red.

(Because everyone _loves_ that damn Marley red).

He can feel a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth and he pushes himself off the door, beginning to scramble together some shower utensils – he wants to look and smell his very best for the rendezvous. In a way, it felt like he was making a first impression: except he was not meeting Eren and Mikasa for the first time, rather he was going to be wrecked by them for the first time.

He can feel himself shaking with excitement; nervousness and lust seeping into the cavern of his chest. He could barely wait.

Once done, Jean begins to ready himself – taking with him some money and a small vial of cooking oil, hoping that he’ll be prodded open with nimble fingers and filled with cock. The thought is so overwhelming that he shivers and lets the sensation rattle through his bones.

The clock ticks on and he realises that it’s nearly 6pm. He sucks in a breath and leaves the safety of his room, bidding farewell to the Connie, Armin and Sasha as they toss knowing looks at each other.

He can hear them laughing as the door shuts behind him, but he can’t bring himself to care. He was going to enjoy this evening no matter what.

-

Jean arrives at the Wolf and Stag at 6:45pm; a bouquet of roses under his arm, but no Marley red – every single store on the way had sold out of the stuff or had given it on to restaurants.

The pub was nicer than Jean remembered; no more paint flaking from the walls, the window sills are decorated with flowers and the signage has been replenished with a fresh coat of varnish. The last time he was here a fight had broken out and everyone was kicked out, but now the place was clearly trying to appeal to a demographic of people that wouldn’t cause a bar fight.

At the door, a bouncer is keeping an eye on him; a tall brutish bald man wearing a waistcoat, obviously assuming that Jean is up to no good. And who can blame him, Jean muses, Eren once told him that he looked like a serial killer.

“Evening,” he tips his hat to the brute to which he receives a nod in reply. He makes it through the door and into a cosy bar area; the walls lined with taxidermy and paintings, a fire lighting in the far corner of the room. He starts approaching the counter and catches the attention of a middle-aged redhead woman who he has been served by before. She’s sagged against the plinth, looking tired from doing nothing; she also has two shot glasses resting beside her.

“Evenin’ sweetheart,” she mumbles, sounding like she swallowed a sack of coal, her accent, not unlike Sasha’s, reverberating through each word. She’s staring right at him now with small beady eyes. “What can I do you for?”

Jean clears his throat – his eyes anywhere but her, darting around the room in search of the staircase that would likely take him to where he wanted to get to. “Uh, I’m here to meet some friends,” he looks past her to the stack of liqueur on the shelves on the wall, trying to avoid her gaze. 

“Eren and Mikasa?” She queries, a hint of amusement buried in the roughness of her tone. Jean nods and she laughs then and tosses her head back, before grinning at him, teeth discoloured from drinking and smoking. “They be regulars here,” she grabs a bottle of unopened whiskey from behind her and slams it down in front of Jean, making him jolt in place. “The struggle you military types have, huh? Unable to fuck in your own homes,” she laughs and Jean can feel his face heat up at the crude remark as he begins to babble a reply in his defence.

“Ah, don’t get yer knickers in a twist honey,” she waves him off and pushes the whiskey towards him. “This is the girl’s favourite, consider it on the house.”

Jean looks back and forth between the woman and the bottle until she jerks her head at him prompting him to scoop it up under his arm.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it,” she turns to pour a shot of something else, likely some other spirit. “They’re in room 3. Have a good night,” she replies with a wink and downs the shot in one go, and Jean’s feet can’t carry him quickly enough up the flight of stairs he spots at the end of the bar.

He arrives on the landing of a long hallway with a wooden floor, lined with doors and picture frames, oil lamps mounted on the walls that create a dim, warm glow. He begins to walk down the hall then in search of number 3. Jean notes that majority of the rooms are occupied, and as he approaches the other end of the hallway he sees two women leaving a room, both of them decked out in garrison uniform. The barwoman was right; seems that military members couldn’t fuck in their own homes.

He comes to a halt then, number 3.

Jean inhales, gathering as much air in his lungs as possible before exhaling slowly, working up the courage to knock.

His knuckles rap on the door twice and he takes a step back, psyching himself up for whatever was about to happen. The wood beneath his skin had felt heavy and thick, obviously constructed with the intention of stopping people from getting in easily and stopping sound from getting out.

_‘Thank the walls’._

The door unlocks and swings open. Mikasa is on the other side wearing a silk robe that stops mid thigh; it’s a terrific shade of red, detailed with intricate and beautifully drawn illustrations in gold and green – clearly Hizurian, and no doubt a gift from Miss Kiyomi. 

“Jean,” she breathes, resting against the door frame. Her inky eyes scan his face and she gives him the softest of smiles. “I’m glad you came.”

He nods dumbly at her but his mouth feels like it’s been sealed shut because he can’t come up with anything to say to her in reply. Not even an ‘I’m glad to see you too’ or ‘you look beautiful’ – he’s far too transfixed on Mikasa’s complexion, and the way that the robe reveals a hint of cleavage and clings to her waist. 

She takes him by the arm and pulls him in, closing and locking the door behind her. 

The room is nice; far nicer than one would’ve guessed. The space isn’t too big – lit by oil lamps and tea lights that have been placed around the on the few flat surfaces, the wallpaper is a deep crimson, the fixtures on the bed and walls are gold, and it only amplifies the luxurious feel of the room.

“Uh, these are for you!” he says, startling her slightly, thrusting the bottle of whiskey towards her as well as a bouquet of roses. He assumes that she sees him shaking because she takes the hand holding the roses and rubs her fingers over his knuckles as if to soothe him. Her face is nearly unreadable, but the aura of calm that she emits is intoxicating – Jean thinks that he would like to remain in her presence forever. 

Even in the golden glow of the space he’s able to see the hint of red that blooms on her cheeks. She takes the roses from him and sets the bottle down, pressing the velvety red petals under her nose and inhaling them softly; finger tips grazing the thorny edges of the stalks. Her eyes are drawn to Jean, they’re dark and mysterious pools. He wants to get sucked into them.

“These are beautiful, thank you” she says, setting them in a vase that already is on the table. “And whiskey too, my favourite.”

She pulls out two tumblers and pours a glass for herself and Jean, sliding his across the table to where he has set down his hat.

“Where’s Eren?” he asks after a moment, curiosity getting the better of him. Mikasa lifts her tumbler to her mouth and takes a mouthful, gesturing towards a door, likely belonging to a bathroom that he hadn’t noticed. 

“He’s getting ready,” she comments, knocking back the remainder of her drink. “He may be twenty minutes or so.”

“Oh.”

Jean doesn’t want to say that the silence between them is awkward, but he finds that... Yes, well, it is awkward. He feels that he’s no match for Mikasa; that he isn’t worthy, and that all his bundled up feelings surrounding her make him nervous.

“Eren told me that you like me,” she says rather casually, not making eye contact as she fills her tumbler, again. “That you actually like me a lot.”

“Is that true?”

The query catches him off-guard, and frankly, this isn’t a great time to deny feelings, Jean thinks, considering Mikasa is wearing a silk robe and is likely wearing nothing underneath it and soon she’ll probably be naked.

“Yes,” he admits.

She hums at that and gives him a sympathetic look, taking another swig from the glass and placing it back on the table with a bit more force than Jean anticipated. She steps towards him then, taking the glass out of his hands and setting it down, slipping his larger hands into her smaller ones. They’re slightly rough to the touch he realises, but he would expect nothing less from her.

“I want to begin,” she says bluntly after, and to be honest, Jean wants to as well, and he silently thanks Mikasa for making herself clear with her desires. “Is that ok?” she asks, fingers lingering on his wrists.

He begins to protest, but she says not to worry —Eren told her about their morning tryst, and she affirms that he’s fine with them beginning without him.

He folds then, compliant; nodding that he wants to begin, eager to finally get moving.

She takes Jean by the arm and leads him to the double bed in the centre of the room. He finds himself increasingly more aware of the pulse in his neck and the sweat accumulating on his brow.

“Have you done this before?” She sits on the bedside and pulls him down with her, patting the duvet and urging him to make himself comfortable.

Jean nods because, well, yes, he did have sex before; he had pushed the memories to the back of his mind, they weren’t great and he would rather forget them. He can only remember bodies but none of the faces involved.

“Good,” she whispers and inches closer. She reaches for Jean’s hands and he hopes that she doesn’t notice them shaking in her grip. He sees the smirk on her lips when she feels them, there’s a gentle press of her thumbs into his palms that does wonders to ease the vibrations. “Relax, Jean.”

He gives a shaky exhale and drags his tongue over his lips, allowing Mikasa to lead his hands to where she wants them. She brings them over the curve of her clothed breasts, the heel of his hand dragging against the erect and sensitive nubs - and the sensation makes her visibly react; eyes closed and teeth bared, she practically purrs and the rumble in her chest causes Jean’s cock to pulsate, jerking forward for friction even though he knows he won’t find it. Her hands - and his - finally settle on the silky lapels of her robe. She turns her eyes up at him, giving him permission and Jean can’t resist the temptation to curl his hands around the fabric as she unties the knot of the robe’s tie.

The fabric is pulled aside, stripped back carefully, revealing her torso to him; Mikasa’s breasts bare as the robe falls from her shoulders and pools around her hips.

Jean feels that the skin that covers all the muscle and bones in his body is about to melt off, because he has never felt so hot in his whole entire life and his heart is about to give out in any second.

She’s a Goddess, a deity - some kind of otherworldly woman from a place that doesn’t have titans inhabiting it, nor the threat of war - but even if there was a threat of war, he has no doubts that she would be enough on her own to deal with hoards of foes. Mikasa lays back, propping herself up on her strong toned arms and lets him watch her; he notices the prominent valley of muscle trailing from her breastbone to her navel, sees her sharp hip bones, her ridged abdomen undulating with every deep breath. Her breasts are perfect; Jean could easily fit his hand around the soft flesh. His eyes are drawn to her nipples; dark pink and erect, the soft white flesh sprinkled with freckles and a bite mark near the areola on her left that he can see in the gloam of the room. He found her strength sexy.

“You’re hard,” he hears her comment, and she doesn’t at all sound displeased.

That was true, he was rock hard – being confined was approaching levels of ostensible discomfort, and he needed some relief or distraction soon. She beckons him to come to her, and he complies immediately, hoping that the better her listened, the more relief he would receive. He hears her hum as he inches himself closer to her – without a doubt appreciating how needy he came across, and he was thankful that she was being so patient.

He always thought Mikasa was attractive, always liked her a lot; but being this close to her in a state of undress made his body vibrate and feel hot – he feels stuck, unsure of what to do and feeling slightly out of his depth.

She cat tell that he’s feeling a sense of unease because she’s looking at him with such kind eyes. “Jean, it’s only me,” she reassures, pressing a palm his cheek in an attempt to ease him in.

He swallows thickly – there is a lump in his throat and much that he would like to say to her, but that would be for another time, another place. He takes the moment, and leans into her touch. “I know it’s just you,” he murmurs, a nervous tremor rattling his voice, Mikasa’s eyes softening considerably. 

“But that’s the thing, it _is_ you.”

Mikasa flushes, flattered by the remark, the tops of her cheeks turning pink and Jean considers for a moment that she might the most beautiful woman alive. She sucks on her bottom lip and her eyes flicker with intention – they look all around him, he’s on his knees, close to her right side.

“I want you to kiss me,” she admits, palming a hand over his chest and beginning to undo the top buttons of his shirt, seemingly appraising the firmness of the muscle beneath the fabric. Mikasa’s hands are cool to the touch as her digits graze his chest. She catches his gaze, and Jean wants her to eat him alive; his warm brandy stare no match for the power she beholds.

Mikasa pushes his shirt over his shoulders and shoves him back into the plush mass of pillows. He’s taken aback by her eagerness, and the strength at which she forced him but he can’t bring himself to care, because Mikasa Ackerman wants him. He jolts in surprise then, a rush in adrenaline filling his veins as she tosses a leg over his hips and sits back to straddle him - Mikasa’s weight, firm on his clothed cock, makes him groan out loud, causing him to expel air through his nose and suck it in through his teeth.

The silk robe around her hips is removed immediately, strewn off the bed, leaving Mikasa bare above him. She leans back and he can feel the heat of her cunt through her panties against his length, her hands gripping his thighs, holding him in place and resisting his movement.

From beneath Mikasa looks like a predator - her almond shaped eyes are dark and she looks full of hunger. Jean deduces that from her physical prowess and the way she’s maintaining a sturdy grip on his legs that she could do whatever she wants to him; and part of him doesn’t mind that at all. One part of Jean is jealous that she gets to manhandle Eren whenever she wants, another is jealous that Eren gets to be manhandled _by_ her. So no, there was nothing awry about this situation.

“Jean,” she calls, relaxing her weight onto him even more. He groans, low in his chest, before giving a meagre nod of the head in reply. “I want you to kiss me,” she repeats, rolling her hips forward, the pressure of her against him making him buck feebly and the strength of her arms preventing any proper movement. “And I want to ride your fingers,” one more sweeping glide of her hips and Jean’s head is lilting back into the pillows. “How does that sound?”

“Yes. Yes please, Mikasa.”

And like that, Mikasa’s hands are gone from his thighs and he finds that he misses the press of her fingers into his legs. Instead she rolls her hips sinuously against him, seeking out her own pleasure whilst she leans forward and tugs Jean’s chin between a thumb and forefinger so that he has to look at her directly. He doesn’t expect her eyes to be as soft as they are when she finally forces their eyes to lock. She smiles at him then, it’s small smile but it’s ever so gentle and Jean feels his heart lurch in his breast as he slides his hands up her thighs to rest on her hips.

She leans forward ever so slightly and kisses him sweetly, retracting to change the angle of the touch and allowing their noses to brush. Her lips are soft, full, and still tasting of whiskey. 

Jean lets a sigh slip from his lips as his eyes flutter close, letting Mikasa and his own senses guide him. 

The feeling is divine; Mikasa’s sturdy weight settled atop him, her pelvis grinding into his own while she continuously dips and kisses him. Her hands snake from where they were resting on his stomach up to his neck, pressing her fingers into his shoulders, the other hand resting around the base of his neck, her thumb pressed against softly against the delicate flesh of his throat. 

Jean’s lips fall open, they’re wanting and pliant against Mikasa’s. She growls, throaty against him and slips her tongue into his mouth, fully closing the distance between their faces until her whole body is agonisingly close to his torso. Mikasa’s nose slides in alongside his own, her eyelashes brushing his face as she moves above him, her grip tightening on his shoulder to the point where her fingers will probably bruise him. 

“Jean, your fingers,” she grunts against him, immediately diving back in to kiss him again, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth before releasing and capturing his lips again in a ferociously sensuous kiss before breaking it and leaning down to press her teeth and tongue into the muscle of his neck. Jean whines against her cheek, a meek ‘yes’ in reply as his hands move up her thighs - one sliding beneath the band of her panties easily, the other continuing up her ribs and planes of her stomach to her breasts. 

He palms her right breast, tracing his thumb delicately over her nipple, delighting at how hard it is under his ministrations. “Pinch them,” he hears her hiss; face still buried alongside his neck, tongue laving against his throat, then another firm bite between the crook of his neck and shoulder. His hips jump when he feels the pressure of her teeth, and he obliges, taking the bud between his fingers and pressing it firmly between them.

“Fuck.” Mikasa presses her hips down into him more roughly, twists and drags them and lets her upper body relax, her back arching with her chest against Jean’s own. She raises her head and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth, and then to his cheek. “Fuck me, Jean,” she murmurs, and it’s less of a request and more of a command. He twists his head and presses a peck to her lips as she drops her head against his shoulder.

His fingers slip further beneath the band of her panties and feels coarse hair against his tips. Mikasa moves to pull them down her hips ever so slightly so he can see what he’s doing until they’re resting on the tops of her thighs, and the imagery, to Jean, is ludicrously hot. Mikasa is spread above his hips while she’s kissing, biting and panting into his shoulder, and he can’t quite believe that this has come to be.

He’s feeling her wetness now, cunt sopping to the touch and knowing that he’s the reason for it makes him feel like he’s just won an award. Jean’s long appendages slide alongside her slit, all the way to the back, collecting wetness and using his ring and forefingers to spread her, his middle finger slipping beyond the folds and brushing against her entrance, feeling the excess of wet slick that resides there. Mikasa’s hips jolt forward and he hears her whine into his neck.

“Jean, fuck, please!”

The desperation in her voices gets him moving right away, he doesn’t want to deny her anymore, and the thought of her cumming around his fingers is exhilarating.

He slides two fingers into her easily, his thumb maneuvering to locate her clit, buried beneath sweet flesh - he presses down, feather light, and she bucks and grinds, and Jean swears that he hears _‘more’_ being panted into his neck. She sinks down further on his fingers, taking him as deep as possible. He curls his fingers, easily finding ridged soft flesh and applying pressure to the area. The touch makes her inhale and Jean feels her shiver against him, then, the strength in her upper body gives out; she sags into his chest, back arching until she’s concave against him, her stray hands finding his upper arms for comfort.

He can only imagine how erotic the scene must look — Mikasa boneless on his chest as her hips gyrate on his fingers looking for release, her face buried in his neck, whispering pleas and obscenities, but mostly asking for _‘more’._

A third finger is slipped into her, and Jean can’t help but appraise how well she takes his long fingers, how nicely they’re filling her up, all while listening to the myriads of responses being huffed and whined by her. 

With three finger buried in her sopping wet heat, Jean decides to finally give what she wants. He begins moving his fingers roughly in and out of her as he begins to firmly press her clit, massaging it with more pressure and the collective actions make Mikasa babble incoherently.

Then, he feels it, feels Mikasa’s cunt constrict around his fingers, and hears her cry out, face flush against his neck and her nails digging into his biceps. Her hips jolting uncontrollably as she cums, chest heaving as she lays on Jean’s own, the tell-tale signs of her orgasm all over his fingers.

She pants heavily, heaving breaths in and out, trying to steady herself. She moves then, leaning up and kissing Jean on the lips and then his cheek - trying to convey her thanks the best way that she could. “Thank you,” she breathes after a moment, sounding sated, Jean letting a shudder roll through him as he removes his slick fingers from her, wiping them in the comforter.

She rolls off him and shucks off her panties, before curling in at Jean’s side and tucking herself under his arm, letting a hand trace over his abs and the sandy hair of his chest. He can feel his chest bloom with warmth in response.

“You two look cozy.”

Jean’s perks up immediately and he sees Eren approaching the bed, hair wet and in a loose bun, a towel around his waist.

“We are,” Mikasa chirps from his side, he can hear how relaxed she sounds as she nuzzles closer. Eren smiles at them both and sets himself down so he can kiss Mikasa, and then, much to Jean’s surprise looks over to him. “It’s ok,” Mikasa smiles, pressing a comforting hand to Eren’s sternum. The tanned man looks down at her and brushes hair from her sweat soaked face, then he leans over and kisses Jean on the lips.

“We’re glad you’re here,” Eren says, smiling, looking at Mikasa and then at Jean.

“Me too,” he smiles, affectionately stroking Mikasa’s arm as she sinks into his side. “And, I don’t mean to sound impatient but whe-”

“Now. If you want,” Eren interrupts, and Jean feels _that_ change in the air again. He’s left blinking at how forward Eren was.

“Jean,” Mikasa begins slowly, eyeing Eren as he begins to get to his feet, the shifter curling his hands around the fabric of his towel - and it’s clear that he’s loosening it. Then she looks at Jean, eyes dark and untelling, the slyest and most mischievous of smiles on her face.

“On your knees.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. 
> 
> Ok, I'd like to thank Ariana Grande's 'Dangerous Woman' for getting me through this chapter, also @albatrost who is a bad influence (go read her stuff, holy shit).
> 
> So yay, I'm glad to finally have all three of them in the picture now, and yes, Jean is a subby boy who's gonna suck dick and probably eat pussy. God bless.
> 
> Comments, kudos etc. are always appreciated! Catch me at bimikasa.tumblr.com as well!
> 
> Ciao xo


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren and Mikasa have their fun with Jean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I just wanna say thanks for all the comments, kudos, bookmarks etc. getting them actually enabled me to finish this porn armageddon.
> 
> Secondly, for the love of god, please practice safe sex and don’t do anything that these three do. Proper lube and condoms are your friends!
> 
> With that said, enjoy this chapter that’s about 97% porn.

_“On your knees.”_

Jean looks to Eren, fingers tucked around the band of his towel, and then back to Mikasa; she gives him a nod, and it doesn’t even cross Jean’s mind to refuse the instruction — mostly because he has no intention of disobeying either of them.

So, he does just that. He gets on his knees in front of Eren and allows himself to spread his legs ever so slightly to make himself more comfortable, the action however, making Jean’s cock ever more prominent in his slacks.

“Move back a bit.” Eren orders, and Jean can hear Mikasa’s movement about on the bed. He twists to look at her and sees that she’s sat on the bedside, legs spread ever so slightly.

“Mikasa is going to help me,” Eren smiles, looking from Jean to the raven. “Right, Mikasa?”

Mikasa hums and Jean makes to move back—slotting himself between Mikasa’s long, slender legs, his height meaning that her knees stop at his elbow. To his surprise he feels Mikasa’s hands on his bare shoulders, massaging comforting circles into them, pressing her thumbs into the nape of his neck. “That’s right.”

She scratches his scalp tenderly, her fingers twining into his hair, her right hand firm on the base of his neck. Jean sighs and allows her to tilt his head back, his gaze directed towards Eren, now stepping towards him.

“You ready?” Mikasa asks breathily, lips to the tips of his ears. He gives an eager nod, almost whimpers in reply to her.

“Good.”

Eren’s right there, incredibly close — his fingers slowly unwrapping himself. He motions for Jean to take the fabric and he does, apprehensively, gripping the soft fabric and pulling away from Eren’s hips. It eventually comes loose and Jean is left to peer up at Eren’s bare body.

Jean has seen Eren naked before, hell, he has seen nearly all the guys in the 104th in the nude in some capacity — but this felt totally different, he was at Eren’s mercy, and despite him being naked, Jean felt far more exposed. His body glistening from being in the shower and Jean can smell the scent of lavender soap on him, but his eyes are drawn to Eren’s length; half-hard and dark, swelling right before him, cut with visible veins. And he was big.

His first thought is ‘will that fit in me?’ and the other is ‘I can’t wait to get my mouth on that’, then he feels Mikasa grip his head a bit harder, tilt him back a bit further, watching as Eren begins to stroke his cock to fullness. He steps forward again and Jean can almost taste him.

“Open wide,” Eren coos, eyes half-lidded and soft, stepping in Jean’s personal space completely and taking over from Mikasa’s hand in his hair, her gentle hands pressing into his shoulders. Jean complies with immediacy, mouth wide with his tongue out past his lips and he can see the approval in Eren’s expression. “Good boy.”

Jean whines deep in his throat at the comment and is rewarded for his behaviour when Eren presses the head of his cock against his eager tongue, sliding pre-cum along it and tapping it on his lips. Jean, unprompted, sucks on the head diligently, eyes falling shut as he slides his tongue around the tip, before taking the full length into his mouth. Eren tastes like soap mostly, but also like skin and sweat as well, and somehow salt — but he doesn’t care much now, his cock is in his mouth and he has his lips around him. Jean pulls off and dips beneath Eren, using the flat of his tongue to lip from the base of Eren’s cock to the tip, relishing in the feel of Eren’s softness and the prominent veins of his shaft. 

“You’re good at this, Jean.”

He smiles around Eren’s dick — feels a thrill shoot up his spine at receiving some praise.

Mikasa chuckles behind him, fingers still soothing him as he lavishes Eren’s cock. “Are you going to fuck his mouth, Eren?” she asks, and Jean can feel her pinching him slightly.

“Yeah.”

_Oh._

Eren jerks Jean’s head back; pulling his cock from Jean’s lips and meets him dead in the eyes. He looks like a hunter.

“That ok?”

Jean nods wordlessly because _yes_ , he wants this, and he has no doubt his eyes are big and wanting, because a grin spreads over Eren’s lips. He has been waiting for Eren to fuck his mouth, face, throat -- whatever — he just wants Eren to ruin him with that cock.

Without any prompting, Jean’s tongue is back out again, and he hears Mikasa snicker behind him as Eren pushes past his lips, curling his fingers into Jean’s sandy hair and pushing into his mouth. Jean lays his tongue flat, enabling the slide in to be smoother as his face is flush against Eren’s crotch, his dark pubic hair still damp and tickling his nose. Eren pulls back again, sliding nearly out of Jean’s mouth before pushing back in roughly, Jean, having to gather spit and slick in his mouth as Eren tightens his grip in his hair.

He whines around him and it drives Eren to be rougher with him, holding him against his front for seconds at a time as Jean struggles to swallow, the cock in his throat making him gag wetly — and Eren can’t get enough of it, pulling from Jean’s mouth time and time again and shoving his thickness down his throat to the point where Jean is visibly lurching and coughing. It continues on like this and Jean doesn’t want it to stop — he’s getting used to the feeling of Eren’s throbbing hardness and the thickness of it, willfully applying pressure and tightening his throat when he shoves himself all the way down, letting his jaw go slack so Eren can use him as he desires.

He lets his shoulders sag and knees spread, sinking lower and allowing Eren to inch forward again. Jean’s eyes water as Eren’s pushes down, forcing him further down his gullet, causing Jean to choke up saliva while still sucking cock to the best of his ability, his nose practically pressed solidly against Eren’s abdomen as tears fall down his cheeks.

“Shit, Jean.”

He removes his cock from Jean’s throat and mouth, stopping for a moment to peer down at the other man. Jean can barely concentrate, barely form a coherent thought, but if he had to guess what he looked like, he’s probably say he looks like a cock hungry slut; his face flushed dark red, streaked with sweat and tears, and his mouth illustrious with saliva, connected to the head of Eren’s cock by a thick thread of spit and pre-cum. He continues to mouth at Eren’s cock, giving small licks to the tip, making Eren throw his head back and cackle at Jean’s eagerness. He takes himself in hand then and begins to smear himself across Jean’s lips, tapping his cock obscenely on Jean’s cheeks and tongue before finally stepping away.

Mikasa’s hands are in his hair again, he can hear her whispering sweet things to him but he is so dazed and out of it that it all sounds intelligible to him. He allows her to turn his head to her so she can lean and kiss him, not at all caring if his lips are slick with spit swiping her tongue across his teeth as he heaves a sigh into her mouth. After such rough treatment from Eren, Mikasa’s gentleness is almost healing.

“You’re making me jealous,” Eren playfully comments, as he settles next to Mikasa. Jean can sense that he wants her and he’s eager for her judging by the way Jean her lips quirking into a smile against his own, she knows it too. She pulls away from him to kiss Eren, and Jean is nearly ready to reach for the pot of jealousy that he always feels stir within him regarding all things Mikasa; but he sees the sweetness in how Eren touches her face and jaw, the warm glint in his eye when he gently noses her, and he can’t bring himself to feel even remotely bad about it.

“Lie back,” Eren instructs quietly, and Jean almost thinks that he’s been forgotten for a moment. Their foreheads pressed together and Eren gives her a peck on the lips for good measure as she manoeuvres herself. She stretches herself out, dragging her fingers over her torso and then pulling her arms up over her head; all tough muscle and long limbs, a woman like no other.

“Take your pants off,” Eren motions to Jean, still in his slacks, an apparent wet patch on them where pre-cum had soaked through. 

The stare that Eren gives him is partly intimidating but also downright sexy, so Jean determines that the wisest thing he should do is listen to him, since he seemed to be the one in control of this whole situation.

(Mostly).

He scrambles to undo his pants, taking a moment to reach into his back pocket and pull out the small tube of oil before throwing his slacks and underwear to the side. This, of course, immediately gets Mikasa’s attention — always alert and watching.

“Cooking oil,” she states—matter of factly, and she’s right, and Jean is totally unsurprised that she is. “We use it too,” she shrugs, looking to Eren who then just pouts cutely at her. “I’m guessing you want to fucked,” she reaches out to Jean and takes the it from him, placing it between her forefinger and thumb and looking at the contents.

“Uh, yes, I’d li—like that,” he stutters, face and ears burning but the feeling of excitement beginning to bubble up in his chest, the thought of Eren or Mikasa opening him up like that makes him think that he’ll vibrate out of his own skin. Her eyes flicker from the vial to Jean, and then back, a smirk swimming on her lips.

“This looks like plenty,” she murmurs to herself, eyes narrowed as she twirls the contents.

“Mikasa,” Eren growls, clearly perturbed and wanting to get a move on, agitation all over his face. “Whenever you two are ready,” he moves between Mikasa’s legs; spreading her thighs, her knees up and wide until he’s pressing against her ass and thighs, cock sliding along the wet slit of her cunt. “I wanna fuck you both.”

Jean swallows, mouth devoid of saliva, pulse hammering in his neck.

Mikasa bites back a moan, containing it within the confines of her throat, and tuts disapprovingly at Eren’s impatience.

“Jean,” she calls, her tone light and soothing as she beckons him over. “Straddle my chest, I’m going to get you ready,” she smiles, lips tight, her face beautifully serene in the lamp light’s warm glow, dark hair gleaming in the dimness.

Without even taking a moment to consider, Jean scrambles over, hovering over and waiting for further instructions. She pats his thigh, motioning for him to move up an inch, pulling at his leg to get it over her torso. Jean follows her orders, keenly aware that Eren’s golden gaze is probably burning holes into the back of his head as he settles his knees either side of Mikasa’s shoulders, shuffling back so he rest on the upper half of her chest.

Jean can’t resist peering down at Mikasa; looking past his cock standing proudly between his thighs, the dark pink tip leaking pre-cum, just so her can see her inky eyes glinting back up at him. He never thought that he’d have the girl of his dreams under him quite like this, yes, maybe during sparring sessions, but beneath him knowing that she was going to finger him open, prepping him for Eren fucking Yeager of all people.

There’s a tell-tale pop of the cap of the vial, and Mikasa is using her deft hands to slick up her fingers, using her free hand to give Jean’s thigh a reassuring squeeze and goad him into waddling forward so that he’s over her face. “Ready?” she asks, voice muffled from beneath.

“Y-yeah.”

It’s warm then, the feel of Mikasa’s hands sliding up the back of his thighs and securing him in place, her indomitable strength keeping him where she wants him. Then he feels the unmistakable heat of her mouth and tongue; collected wet spit lavished on his perineum and asshole, and the sensation makes him jerk forward.

“Move back a bit,” she says suddenly, tightening her hold on him moving him back so that his cock hovers above her lips. “I want to taste you.”

The admission from Mikasa make his chest fill with warmth, even with the lewd connotations and the way she had said it so bluntly, never one to truly beat around the bush with anything.

Her chin lifts, tongue flat and mouth wide as she licks the underside of his cock, gathering saliva on her tongue and licking a stripe from his balls to the tip. She shuffles beneath him, worming an arm out from under his legs so that she can squeeze his cock; hand skillfully sliding along his length, delicately applying pressure to his cock, finally resting on the head, thumb rubbing over the slit and slicking it with pre-cum. 

Jean gasps at the sensation, chest heaving and unable to stop his frame from jerking erratically — his body wholly fuelled by Mikasa’s careful and clever ministrations. Then comes the warm press of her lips to the tip, Mikasa using her tongue to encircle his cockhead before sliding him into the warmth of his mouth. She hums around him, eyelashes fluttering as she closes her eyes as she licks him, a firm hand at the base gliding and twisting as she slowly works him.

There’s shuffling from behind and he twists his head to see that Eren has begun to push himself into Mikasa’s cunt — and judging by her reaction, it works as a distraction from sucking Jean’s cock. Her face twisted in pleasure, mouth fallen ajar as she lets a high pitched whine escape her before she attempts to resume licking Jean. But judging by the jolts of her body and the way her body dips into the mattress, Eren has begun to increase his speed.

Jean dares to look around again only to find that Eren has hooked under her knees, pushed wide and fully displayed her for anyone to see. He’s murmuring praise for Mikasa as he adjusts himself again, his head bowed low and brows creased in concentration as he grips the back of her legs; his hips rhythmically slapping against her backside — and Jean isn’t blind to see that the slide is so slick and easy.

Mikasa continues stroking Jean with intermittent hisses of pleasure, her neck arching as she gasps for breath — all while she attempts to suck Jean’s cockhead. Jean can see that she’s halfway between frustrated and being caught in the throes of pleasure, unable to service Jean how she wants. There’s a growl of frustration then from beneath him, so loud that it takes him aback, and he finds that Mikasa is lifting and pulling him forward onto her face with ease.

He falls forward and grips onto the headboard, Mikasa’s now rearranged hands on the inside of his thighs.

There’s her svelte touch again, gliding to the apex of his thigh and then back up to his buttocks. She takes the flesh there in a sturdy grip; urging Jean to lower himself, closer to her mouth and allowing better access to her hands. 

Mikasa’s hot mouth and tongue ghost his perineum again - the feeling of her mouth is heavenly, and he can feel how she adequately slicks him up. She shuffles again, pulling Jean further down as her tongue licks up, ghost the rim of his hole, her tongue prodding delicately.

Jean’s breath stutters in his chest, dropping his head back and relishing in the feeling of Mikasa’s strong hands on his ass, the feel of her oil slick fingers prizing his cheeks apart. He hears a whistle exertion coming from Eren, his now slower thrusts becoming more solid as Mikasa’s hot breaths exert against his skin.

The drag of Mikasa’s fingers between his cheeks and over his asshole wrench a sigh of frustration from him — he wants her so badly to open him up, and finally, he gets his wish. The tip glides in easily, Jean is too excited to be nervous, and he can hear Mikasa quietly marvel at how easy it is.

Then there’s the press of another finger at his rim, gently pressing up and in. Jean hisses at the intrusion, feeling the stretch slightly more this time, but relishing in it all the same, unable to focus on anything other than the fact that Mikasa is doing this to him. He can feel her in him, flexing and crooking her fingers, scissoring them to loosen him up, and it's only when her digits brush his prostate that he visibly reacts; doubled over and grinding down on her fingers as he clings to the headboard.

“She’s so good,” Eren grunts out as he drives his hips forward, eliciting a loud moan that’s muffled by Jean’s weight above her. “Ain’t she?”

Jean keens loudly as Mikasa finds his prostate again, massaging him as a third finger rubs at his rim, his back straightening as it slips in, his hole greedily sucking her fingers in.

“Th-the best.”

Jean loses himself spectacularly — grinding down and riding Mikasa’s fingers like there’s nothing more to live for, Mikasa’s lips on his balls again, her free hand gripping his fleshy ass and spanking it every few thrusts, no doubt leaving a red imprint, the only words falling from his lips being pathetic cries for more.

“Shit, you’re so hot Jean,” Eren growls, suddenly pushing Mikasa’s thighs further down so he can move himself closer to Jean’s back. “Can’t wait to fuck you.”

It all comes to a grinding halt then; Eren’s new angle triggering Mikasa’s orgasm, causing the woman to pull her mouth from Jean and instead moan and cry obscenities into his thighs as Eren continues to fuck her through it. Her hand is pulled from Jean as she scrambles to gather the bed sheets in her hands, and he rolls off her, feeling pleasured and dazed, but not yet completely satisfied.

He perches himself on the bedside and watches them then.

Eren bends Mikasa in half; thighs flush against his chest and knees over his shoulder as he noses her face and kisses her, his mouth swallowing her cries as he maintains his pace — one hand pressed firmly into the muscle of her thighs, the other between her legs, rubbing her clit, searching for that third orgasm.

“Eren! Ah—Eren!” She cries, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, fingertips desperately digging into him as the bedframe rocks steadily against the back wall of the room.

And like that, it’s all over. Mikasa bucks and shakes under Eren, her sobs of pleasure muffled by him kissing her and whispering praise.

_“You’re such a good girl…”_

_“You’re so gorgeous, you take me so well…”_

Jean swallows watching the display with a degree of envy — because it’s cute, and he hates that they’re being cute without him.

Eren pulls himself out of Mikasa, slick with her cum, but still hard: a testament to his endurance, and probably all that training he does with his Titan. His attention turns to Jean then, taking him by the wrist and pulling him towards them.

Mikasa’s still shaking hands catch his face, pulling him into an open-mouthed kiss while Eren licks and bites at his neck. They swap over, as if in sync and knowing exactly what to do, Eren now kissing him — stubble brushing his lips, his hands rough in how they palm his chest, pulling Jean into his lap.

Jean’s arms wind around Eren’s neck, his fingers twining in his hair that has since come loose from its tie as Eren kissing him firmly, biting at his lips and his tongue pushing past the seam of his lips to brush against his tongue and teeth. He’s so entrapped by Eren that he’s vaguely aware of Mikasa’s presence behind him, calm hands back on his shoulders like before as she takes his earlobes between her lips, nails grazing his shoulders.

 _This is bliss, this must be a dream_ , are among the thoughts currently occupying Jean’s head, because everything that is unfolding and is likely to unfold in the next few minutes just seems totally unreal and out of the realm of reality, it’s as if he’s back in that dreamscape that he was stuck in from earlier in the day; but Mikasa and Eren are here and they want him, real and solid, blood and body.

Eren rolls his hips forward into Jean’s cock, his own slick length seeking friction against the taller man’s. He shifts Jean in his hold and presses his palms into his chest, delicately gliding his hands over his breast, and pushes him onto his back, holding him down as he ruts against Jean’s cock. Mikasa shuffles up by Jean and moves to kiss him sweetly, drawing back to lean on her side and propping herself up as she watches Eren and Jean continue to go at it.

Jean’s aching for Eren now, aching for him to fill him up and fuck him. He vocalises that need suddenly, letting out a whiny plea, begging for Eren to make him cum, because he’s tired of waiting and he desperately needs to finish—he feels as if he’s in pain waiting. There’s a rumble in Eren’s chest that’s clear and audible to him, clearly a sign that he approves of Jean’s desperation, showing his teeth as he applies more pressure, making Jean jerk and groan. “What do you want Jean?” he teases, moving his cock to brush against Jean’s hole.

He bites back a gasp, scrunching his eyes tight and heat rushing to his cheeks as he feels the tip of Eren’s length slide between his cheeks and catch the rim of his hole.

“I want your cock,” he whines, without an ounce of shame, and Eren appeases him by pressing his tip past the rim, oil and Mikasa’s wetness making it easy to slip inside.

“Eren, more, please,” he begs, attempting to grind down on Eren who slips out of him and along his perineum instead, only frustrating Jean even further to the point where he lets out a cry, deep in his chest. Eren simply coos at the noise, bemused and pleased at his reactions.

“Please, Eren, please fuck me, I need it!” he babbles, a sob wracking his chest. 

It’s only when he Eren grabs his hips and pulls him closer that he realises that he’s going to finally fuck him, _finally_ , after so much begging and whining, and it becomes even clearer what’s going to transpire when Mikasa begins to shift too, leaning to kiss Eren, and then leering over Jean.

“Can I sit on your face?”

At that, Jean blanches completely, every coherent thought instantly evaporating from his brain.

_Oh yes, oh fuck yes._

“Yes. Please.”

Mikasa cracks a smile as she throws a leg over his chest, a smile much broader than the ones he’s usually used to, and he has an inkling why.

He grips Mikasa’s firm ass and pulls her down to get a taste of her cunt, craning his neck to bury his nose and mouth in her slit, taking one long lick from her opening to her clit, circling it with his tongue and sucking it between his lips. 

Mikasa rolls her hips sensually, burying hands in Jean’s sandy hair once again as she rides his tongue, making the softest eye contact with Jean as he peers up at her from between her legs.

“You tas— Ah, fuck!”

“Shut up, Jean!” Eren grins, pushing easily into him without any resistance. 

Jean pants and moans into Mikasa’s cunt — startled by the sudden intrusion. The feeling of Eren’s thickness within him makes him feel so full, and he thinks he could cum at any moment. The cock in him accompanied with Mikasa’s cunt hovering over him makes him feel completely overwhelmed, like his senses have been overcome.

Eren slides out, and then back in again, and his cock isn’t like any Jean’s ever had before — girthy and long, he can feel the veins that protrude on the shaft as he enters Jean.

“So tight,” Eren muses, his voice hoarse, pulling Jean’s legs tight to him and increasing his speed, roughly pumping in and out of Jean’s ass. “You feel so fucking good.”

Jean’s whole body gets pulled roughly by Eren everytime he pushes in and out of his ass, doing his very best to concentrate on Mikasa’s cunt, but Eren’s vigorous thrusts just made it more difficult to focus.

“Shit,” Eren groans, burying himself balls deep in Jean, lifting his hips to allow him to grind into his prostate, causing Jean to arch against the mattress. “Look at you, swallowing me whole,” Eren murmurs, rolling his hips into Jean with precision. “So fucking greedy.”

Jean moans aloud licks up into Mikasa one more time before he feels her thighs shake around his head, grinding into his face and tasting the saltiness of her slick. She rolls off him then, chest heaving having cum for the fourth time.

Hands are on him again — Eren’s, utilising his strength, gripping onto his hips and turning him on his stomach.

“Ass up,” Mikasa says from beside him, looking radiant and flushed from sex. “It’s his favourite.”

It would be a lie if Jean was to say that he didn’t think about Eren taking him like this — in fact, the thought has crossed his mind a few times during the day. He scrambles up onto his knees, ass up and exposed.

Eren dribbles spit between his asscheeks and presses his cock between them, pressing the fleshy globes together so he can fuck them, pre-cum smearing on the small of his back.

Finally, Eren slips into him, and the penetration nearly makes him cum right away as he begins sliding in and out of his ass, his cock nudges against his prostate every time he enters and exits. Jean pushes his face into the pillows, loudly and unashamedly moaning, in a rising staccato as Eren pounds his ass, squeezing his flesh and administering a spank that makes Jean howl, clearly enjoying how his cock sinks into his hole.

“You wanna cum?” Mikasa asks, a hand gliding along the curve of Jean’s erotically arched back. The question on Mikasa’s part is almost redundant — Jean’s cock is leaking and is a dark shade of red, signalling that there is probably nothing he wants more.

“Ahhh! Y-yes!”

He twists his head and cries out loudly, his body still being rocked forward as Eren continues to fuck him, the power of Eren’s thrusts making the whole bed shake.

“Alright, ok,” she coos, reaching to take Jean’s hanging cock, spitting in her hand and beginning to stroke him, maintaining speed alongside Eren’s thrusts. 

_yesyesyesyesyes_

Jean chokes out a moan, his teeth latching into the fabric of the pillows, hands scrambling for purchase against the mattress, pulling the sheets taut from the corners of the bed.

“C’mon Jean,” Eren goads, slowing and grinding into him and whatever he does with his cock and hips sets Jean alight, thrusting back against Eren’s cock.

“Yeah, that’s it…”

Eren grips his hips tighter, nails digging into his abdomen as he pulls Jean back, a hand clapping loudly off his ass that pulls a moan from Jean immediately.

With one swift thrust, Jean feels fire in his spine, his shoulders and arms spasms as he feels his orgasm creep in and overtake him, his entire body shaking as he cums. His throat must be raw, because he’s shouting so loudly, cock straining spilling cum all over the sheets and Mikasa’s hand; vaguely aware of Eren finally finishing, pumping once, twice, thrice, then emptying into his ass, feeling his hole being filled up with cum.

Jean drops immediately and sags against the bed, he feels Eren behind him dropping as well, crawling up up Jean’s back and pressing an affectionate kiss between his shoulder blades. 

He glances sideways and sees Mikasa, lounging there, looking sated and satisfied, licking cum of the tips of her fingers pointedly.

“It’s disgusting.”

Jean’s nose scrunches up, insulted and sweaty, Eren barks a laugh into the mattress as he lays face down.

Jean rolls over onto his back — newly relaxed and chest rising and falling evenly, and Eren follows, propping himself up and crawling up beside Jean sliding himself under his arms. Mikasa does the same, her skin decidedly cooler than Eren’s, relishing in her subdued energy in comparison to that of her boyfriend’s. She props herself up and leans over to kiss Eren, and then to kiss Jean, planting her lips on his solidly.

“Thanks,” Jean murmurs after a moment, his words a whisper against Mikasa’s lips. She clicks her tongue at him, reciprocating the affection with a small smile and a peck to lips.

They three lie there in the quiet for a while, arms and legs strewn over one another, basking in the warmth of each other, soothed by the sounds of breathy inhales and exhales as the late evening sun begins to set outside — the last glimmers of light falling through the cracks of the soft velour curtains.

A warmness settles over Jean as he lays there — chest full of blissful heat and the solemn sound of his heartbeat, devoid of anxiety or worry, the presence of both Eren and Mikasa bringing a sense of peace that he had not felt in a very long time. Whatever this was, whatever had happened between the three of them, he wanted to have it again — he wanted to find a place in the world where Eren and Mikasa share everything with each other.

Forever seems to pass and Jean can feel himself beginning to dip into the realm of sleep, but only then does Eren speak up. Looking across Jean’s chest, he begins making eye-contact with Mikasa, and even though the exchange is brief, Jean swears that they’ve just had an entire conversation with their eyes.

“Can we do this again?” Eren queries, face buried in Jean’s shoulder. “We’d like to have you with us, for like, a second round.”

Mikasa rolls her eyes, but nods in enthusiastic agreement with Eren, nails scratching against Jean’s chest. “You’re great, and we’d like to make this more of a fixture.”

A blush blooms over her cheeks at the words making Eren snort at the sight.

“Yeah,” he licks his lips and draws his eyes to Jean. “It was a lot of fun.”

For a few moments Jean weighs up the possibilities that Eren and Mikasa are lying to him, but it doesn’t take him a long time to deduce that they aren’t lying at all, mostly because Mikasa is a terrible liar and she seems more than sincere in her desires.

“Yes,” he blurts, not feeling not one bit of regret, not regretting that he didn’t think and hesitate on it for one moment. “I’d love to, I mean, if you want me to,” he stutters, only to earn a slap on the chest from Eren, a hard one that makes him swear under his breath and flinch. 

“That’s why we asked dumbass.”

“Eren!”

“Ah, sorry, Mikasa.”

Jean chuckles silently at the back and forth as quiet falls over them again, some sort of deal between the three hashed out, and that blissful heat that sits in Jean’s chest begins to warm, a flush of heat creeping up his neck and face.

It had worked out — maybe not how he originally planned, not expecting feelings to bubble up like wet beneath woodwork, but he was all the more happy for it.

He was there now, lying in the peace of night with his friends under his arms, quietly hoping that maybe there could be more to all of this.

(Whatever ‘this’ was).

For what feels like the first time in an eternity, Jean sleeps; relaxed, restful, and with an ever present smile on his face.

When he wakes, both of them are still there, and the sun streams in, illuminating the dark crevices of the room and shining light onto Eren and Mikasa’s faces — two beautiful people, two people he cared for dearly, rested and walking in dreams.

Maybe ‘this’ was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand that’s it!
> 
> Truthfully I’m glad to have this out of my hair, after a while I found it stagnating and just wanted to get rid, but I figured I should finish it.
> 
> Additionally, a big thanks to my girl Albatrost, who encourages being more than horny on main.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for all the support! You can catch me at bimikasa.tumblr.com.
> 
> Bye for now!


End file.
